Friday, August 3, 2018

We were either closeted or forcibly ghettoized in the those decades. The late sixties, seventies and early eighties brought so much change to the lives of women and lesbians. A lot of us
looked different and distinctly lesbian but none of us aspired to the female sex-role stereotypes. Obsequious,
flirtatious, decked-out, made-up heterosexual women were the norm then and seem to have made a comeback since. But we really had to be circumspect in dealing with the outside world. There were no job
or housing protections and, we were vulnerable to discrimination. Organizing was imperative. There was so much work to be done.

I defined myself as a radical lesbian feminist in
those early days. I went to San Francisco State and took groundbreaking women's studies classes from pioneers like Sally Gearhart. I hung out at bars like Scotts, Maude's, Kelley's, Pegs Place and A Little More. It wasn't just the Michigan Women's Music Festival that was happening. Old Wives Tales Women's Bookstore opened, followed by Artemis Society. Plexus newspaper emerged. Osento Hot Tub flourished in a Victorian on Valencia Street. The Women's Press Project began printing pamphlets and books by lesbians. The laws were against us, lesbians were hated and under attack by fellow citizens and police, but it was a heady time in our community, full of hope and promise.

I think my first break with the radical feminist philosophy was when the
realization dawned that I didn’t necessarily believe that women were special and could save the
world. I was attracted to women. I loved and respected many of them. But I
could look back at history and find women falling on the morally incorrect side. Some early suffragists supported
racism. In every struggle against fascism there were lots of women taking a
stand with murderous dictators. Fighting for more than just lesbians rights seemed necessary. As a Jew and a working-class affiliated woman, often a strictly radical lesbian feminist analysis didn’t speak to every aspect of me. Because I found many lesbians ignorant of these other components of struggle, the romance between me and this simplistic take on the world, faded.

The political work I did with lesbian groups like Lesbian Schoolworkers, Lesbians Against Police Violence and Revolting Lesbians were organized around lesbian liberation but also tackling other issues of oppression like...racism, poverty, and class struggle.

During the day I was a working stiff. To survive in that arena required me to make
alliances with all different kinds of people. The line between gender and demographic groups. I’m an odd individual. The folks I liked, and who liked me, varied tremendously. I made
friends where I could, usually with people who minimally identified with the workaday world and had other, more interesting and creative pursuits. They helped ease my way through the forest of b-s and artifice. I never stopped going to concerts or conferences or music
festivals for dykes, I just stopped seeing that road as the only possible path
through life’s jungle.

As organizational work toward lesbian protections found
some success, I felt less confined to one small community. My friends became
more eclectic, square pegs but not necessarily lesbian ones. Maybe coalition
was possible. Perhaps we can explore our place in a broader society. I left
the so-called safety of lesbian community for the prospect of a
larger life, much the same way I’d left the Jewish community in which I was raised, to
take my chances with the larger, multi-racial, diverse world. My family warned
me often that, because of hostility, I would regret that decision, but that was not the case.

So where does all this leave me today? Older, but still much the same. I incorporate new information and curse the times we are living in. I still despise sex roles for humans but respect each person's right to call themselves whatever they want. And I do the same. As a writer and an individual, I have no desire
to generalize or tar everyone with the same broad brush. But I am not willing
to toss aside the fore-mothers of lesbian-feminism either. When I see young women throwing out the
baby with the bathwater, it saddens me. I want to tell them to read, to
study, to learn about what we were up against, the obstacles we encountered and faced down making life a bit easier now for everyone.

It is foolish to place leaders of another time in current
society to decide how you feel about them. In order to see the Second Wave generation of feminism clearly, you must first rise to a height where the entire picture comes into view.
Many young people are incapable or unwilling to do so. But not all. There
are folks, like myself, who will value those who came before them, the lessons that ancestors teach. Violence
and hatred have moved large groups of people throughout history, but have left
behind nothing which inspires goodwill or pride.

Those who dismiss their elders
will get their comeuppance with time. Life is impermanent, yours as well as
ours. If you believe you know everything and will live forever, time will prove otherwise. The past is not your enemy. Those who cleared the path before
you are not your foes. If you willfully choose to ignore history, it will rear up and bite you at the most inopportune moments. Who knows? Years from
today, you may find yourself writing a piece, like this one, engaged in the
very same argument. And then, perhaps, you will choose to reflect back on your former self with wisdom and compassion.